


Anything Goes but it's Wholesome

by SaturnandMarz



Category: Corpse Party (Video Game), Corpse Party: Tortured Souls, Death Note (Anime & Manga), ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hurt and comfort, Kishinuma-is-a-dumbass, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, PTSD, Yoshiki-is-GAY, fugio, no one dies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-05-13 04:42:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19244062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaturnandMarz/pseuds/SaturnandMarz
Summary: You give me suggestions on fluffy things to write based on character headcannons or pairings you have, and I write them.





	1. Chapter 1

The title and description says it all.  
This will be way different than the smut version, as this will contain no smut at all and only wholesome things.  
Any ship from the fandoms I've heard of, as long as;

1\. The ships are not pedophelic in any way, I will not write pedophilia

2\. The ships are not incestual, I will not write incest (I will write wholesome sibling bonding only)

Have fun


	2. Yoshiki's Cooking Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The request was for Yoshiki and Satoshi cooking. It features insecure, lonely, and secretly crushing Yoshiki.  
> Just,, Yoshiki man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I'm sorry about this being super late, it's my first serious one shot in a while and I was figuring out how to execute it.

"That's not how you do it, idiot," the blonde spoke in his usual callous tone. 

Although, it was hard for him to take himself seriously when he was standing in Satoshi's kitchen wearing an apron. 

Satoshi had invited-- or rather, begged -- the other to teach him to cook for some time now. It all started when Satoshi's mom had passed out on the couch after work, and forgot to pack him lunch. 

-

When Satoshi had reached to school on that day, he found that his mother had just left him a note and some money, saying to buy lunch for himself. 

However, he quickly found himself in a predicament. The cafeteria was closed for some reason, and there was no way he could buy lunch. So, he hung his head in defeat and went to go join his friends in the courtyard where they usually ate lunch together. 

Naomi and Seiko were sharing, as per usual, while Mayu scolded Sakutaro for eating fast food again. Everyone knew it was just because she cared for him.

Even Yoshiki chimed in.

"She's right you know. It's better to have food homemade. That's why I make my lunches," he spoke.

Satoshi looked around. Everyone's lunch looked so good, even Sakutaro's unhealthy one. His stomach grumbled loudly.

"Mochida?" asked Naiomi. "Where's you're lunch? It's important to eat you know," 

"Ah, don't worry about me. My mom just forgot to pack it, and the cafeteria is closed," Satoshi explained.

This made Yoshiki chuckle at the time.

"You're seventeen and your mom still packs your lunch for you?" the blonde teased.

-

Yoshiki blushed as he remembered how he had teased him, or how Naiomi had stood up for him. The blonde found it ironic, because no matter how much he looked for some reason to get under Satoshi's skin,  he always ended up helping him. 

-

After some banter between Naiomi and Yoshiki, the latter finally let up and turned to Satoshi. 

"I guess she has a point. It isn't healthy to skip meals," he said with an uncharacteristic tenderness. "Here, have some of my lunch," 

Yoshiki held out the container of inviting food towards him. Dumplings, one of his favourites.

Not that Yoshiki would know that though.  

Satoshi wasn't used to seeing this side of him, and it surprised him to say the least. 

"Honestly I couldn't. Didn't you say you made it yourself?" Satoshi asked.

Yoshiki nodded. "I did, so what? Just take one, you're looking at everyone like a starving puppy," 

Satoshi caved and reached out, taking one of the dumplings and popping it into his mouth. The flavour was amazing, like something he could have gotten at a restaurant. 

"Kishinuma, this is really good," he spoke enthusiastically as he reached for another. 

Pink dusted the blonde's cheeks.

"It's nothing, really," Yoshiki said, looking almost bashful. 

The two of them shared the container until it was empty and both of their stomachs were full. 

"Hey Kishinuma, you should teach me how to cook," Satoshi said finally.

Yoshiki chuckled. "And why would I want to do that?" he asked.

"Please? You said it yourself, I'm seventeen and I rely on my mother to pack my lunch for me...maybe it would be helpful if I learn from someone who's already good at it," 

Satoshi pulled out the money his mother gave him for lunch and tried handing it to Yoshiki, to serve as an incentive.  

Yoshiki's mouth curled into a deep frown.

"What are you trying to do? I'm not accepting bribes," he scolded, smacking Satoshi's hand away.

"It's not a bribe, it's payment for you to teach me how to cook," he said.

"Keep your money, I'm not going to do it," 

"Please, Kishinuma?" 

Satoshi pleaded with his eyes, Yoshiki hated when he would do that. He hated it because for some reason, he would always cave. 

He let out a deep, unimpressed sigh.

"Fine. I'll do it, but keep your money. I don't want you giving me handouts. I'm doing this as your friend," Yoshiki said.

Satoshi grinned. 

-

And that's how the two or them ended up at Satoshi's place in the kitchen together, Yoshiki giving pointers (really, just teasing Satoshi) on how to do things properly.

"Have you really never cooked a day in your life?" Yoshiki asked.

"Well, there was this one home-ec class I took, but my partners usually did all the cooking when it came to it," Satoshi explained.

"So in other words, your mom is the only one who cooks around here," Yoshiki replied.

"Yeah, basically," 

"She has a lot of ingredients. We could feed an entire village with the amount of food she has in her cupboards," Yoshiki commented.

Yoshiki had suggested that they go over to Satoshi's house to start the cooking lessons, but he didn't tell him why.

He didn't feel the need to burden Satoshi with his problems.

Yoshiki lived alone, and sometimes minimum wage wasn't enough to get by. He felt embarrassed by the sparse amount of ingredients he had at home. 

Satoshi just shrugged in response. He felt like it was a normal amount of food to have in any household. 

Yoshiki couldn't help but let out a dry chuckle. It was like Satoshi was completely oblivious as to how lucky he was to have a mom who would cook for him, and to have a full pantry.

Satoshi raised an eyebrow. 

"Kishinuma? What's the matter?" he asked.

Yoshiki's mouth was in a straight line. Satoshi knew enough about him to know that he hadn't laughed because something was funny to him. 

"It's nothing. I just think that your mom must be a very nice lady," Yoshiki said.

Satoshi furrowed his brow. He was smarter than that, and Yoshiki knew it. He could see right through the blonde's falsehoods.

"Kishinuma, I know you live alone," Satoshi said.

"Yeah? And what about it?" 

"I just wanted to know what it's like," 

Yoshiki looked over at him, confused.  
"Since when do you want to know anything about my life?" he asked.

"Yoshiki, I'm your friend," Satoshi said.

Yoshiki was sort of shocked that the brunette had suddenly dropped the honorifics, and even called him by his first name. He knew Satoshi would only do that if he was trying to get closer to whoever he was talking to.

He hesitated to answer.

All of his friends knew that he lived alone, but he never really talked about it with anyone that much.  
It lead to Yoshiki feeling quite alone. No one else he knew was in the same situation as him.  
Whenever someone asked him about his personal life, he felt threatened.

But here, standing in Satoshi's kitchen wearing a silly apron he felt safe.

Satoshi was looking at him with an expectant expression. When Yoshiki looked into those eyes, he felt safe.

He was safe.

Satoshi was safe to talk to.

So, he began to tell Satoshi what it was like to be young and alone. Every once and a while he would interupt himself to tell the other male what step he would have to take next to make the dumplings.

He told him about how he had to work multiple jobs, and that's why balancing school work was hard.  
Or how he had little ways of saving money here and there so he could make ends meet.

By the end of Yoshiki's story, they had an entire batch of dumplings ready to be cooked. They even had enough ingredients to make something in conjunction with the dumplings.

"We could make a stew with some of the other ingredients," Yoshiki said.

Satoshi nodded. "We can work and talk. Tell me more about you," 

Satoshi was genuinely interested in learning more about Yoshiki, and this surprised him.

" Why were you so curious about what my home life was like anyways?" Yoshiki asked.

"I think I always viewed you as so mature since you lived in your own, so I've sort of been curious," Satoshi said. "I thought life for you would be the same as it is for me, just with the absence of parents. But, little things widen the gap between us. Certain mannerisms you have," he said.

"Mannerisms? What, the way I act makes it obvious that I'm poor?" Yoshiki asked.

"I didn't mean it like that," Satoshi replied. "I just meant the small things. Like how you were pleasantly surprised at all the ingredients we have here, or how you didn't want to take my money," 

Yoshiki shrugged. " Well it doesn't grow on trees," he said. He began chopping up some vegetables to put in the stew.

"Is this why you didn't want to go to your house to teach me how to cook?" Satoshi asked.

Yoshiki paused cutting for a moment.  
"Why? Was it obvious?" he asked.

Satoshi smiled a bit.  
"I was just going to say that if need be, we could always continue cooking lessons over here at my house. I really wouldn't mind," he said.

Yoshiki smiled back softly.  
"Great, that means I don't have to clean my apartment," he said, half-jokingly.

Satoshi chuckled, unknowingly causing Yoshiki's heart to flutter.

He started cutting the vegetables again, and the shorter of the two saught to mirror his actions.   
Satoshi picked up his own knife and started to hack away at the vegetables.

Yoshiki looked at him and he chuckled a bit.

"Geez, it's like you're trying to kill them," he teased. "Have you never held a knife in your life?" he asked.

"I'm really trying," Satoshi retorted. 

"Here, go slower," Yoshiki spoke gently.

He moved behind Satoshi and wrapped an arm around him, placing it on his wrist firmly under the guise of showing the other how to properly mince the ingredients.

Satoshi felt heat start to prickle underneath his skin at the boy's actions. 

Yoshiki was so close he could smell hints of shampoo in Satoshi's hair. He found the scent almost endearing. A mama's boy trying to find his way into being an independent teen.

He pulled away and moved from behind Satoshi once he started to get the hang of it. Only then did he realise the deep shade of pink his friend's face had been. His palms started to get a bit clammy. 

"Oh, I'm sorry I-- Jesus...I didn't mean to be weird or anything," he sputtered, searching the corners of his mind for an excuse to his behaviour.

"No worries," Satoshi said.

His face said he was losing it, but his voice was calm and unwavering.

Yoshiki always envied how the other seemed to always maintain his composure in most situations.   
He cleared his throat and continued trying his best to remain patient and calm enough to continue their impromptu cooking lesson.

Soon enough, the two of them had made a meal for for kings according to Satoshi.   
Or, just a meal made by two highschool students, in Yoshiki's eyes.

Satoshi was the first to try some of the stew they made. His eyes lit up as he did. Yoshiki subconsciously found it adorable.

"Try some," he said. 

He filled the spoon he was holding with more of the warm broth and he brought it up to the taller male's lips.

Yoshiki blushed a bit. The action was so much more tender than the treatment he received from everyone else. He almost regretted teasing Satoshi so much.  
He sipped the broth and nodded his head.

"It is good," he said. "Congratulations, you know how to cook something other than instant noodles, thanks to me," 

Satoshi chuckled again, his voice strumminh hard on Yoshiki's heart strings.

"I really appreciate you taking the time to teach me," Satoshi spoke with a smile.

"It really isn't a problem, Satoshi," Yoshiki replied humbly.

Calling the brunette by anything other than his last name felt weird most of the time, but for now it felt like he was instantly becoming closer to him just by saying it.

Now that the food was done, he could take his leave. He picked up his bag off of the kitchen floor and slung it over his shoulder. 

" What are you doing?" called Satoshi from behind him.

Yoshiki turned to face him.

"I'm leaving?" Yoshiki replied. "I had a job to do, and it's finished so I don't see any reason I would stay," 

"Have dinner with me," Satoshi said hastily.

There was a silence that hung between them for a while, as Yoshiki was trying to wrap his head around the situation.

He had friends, sure, but none of them ever invited him to stay over for dinner before. He was convinced it was because he was the poster child of bad influences. He was utterly confused as to why Satoshi would want someone like him to stay in his home any longer than he should have to. 

"Are you sure? I don't want to overstay my welcome," 

"You wouldn't be imposing. It's the least I could do since you taught me something. Plus, you won't take my money so how else am I supposed to repay you?"

Yoshiki's cheeks turned red and he cast his eyes down to the floor.

The fact that someone actually wanted him around was overwhelming to him. The blonde didn't really process big emotions properly, he mostly just tried to skim over his own feelings without getting too deep into it.

However, the thought of someone like Satoshi wanting him to stick around undoubtedly made him feel appreciated and safe.

He exhaled softly before replying.

For the first time in a long time, Yoshiki was going to let himself have something nice. Spending time with Satoshi like this was rather cathartic. 

"I would love to,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeee sorry if this was short.


	3. Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is for my bf who suggested I should write Fugio because it's baby uwu.  
> This is an AU where no one in Bucci Gang dies and FUGO DOESN'T LEAVE BECAUSE I'M SOFT, LEAVE ME ALONE.

After taking down Diavolo, Bruno and company had an all new life.

Giorno became the new don, the production and solicitation of narcotics within Passione had come to a halt. 

Bruno, Narancia, and Abbacchio continued their business in the old restaurant. They were considered by the civilians in that town to be honourable gangsters. 

Mista and Polnareff worked close to Giorno at the top, and Trish, who wished to stay out of gang activity, remained put in one of Bruno's safe houses.

It seemed like everyone was doing good for themselves after the traumatizing events that happened many years ago. However, for Fugo, things weren't that easy. 

He couldn't really find out where to fit in. After Diavolo was replaced by Giorno, things changed a lot for him. He didn't see it fit to stay with Bruno, since Narancia didn't really need tutoring anymore and he didn't consider himself to be as noble as they were. 

He also didn't have the liberty of leaving gang activity behind him like Trish did. So, the only logical option in his eyes was to stay with Giorno and work for him.   
Giorno was someone he greatly respected after all, so there should be no problems right? 

Wrong.

Somehow, it seemed that Fugo was the only one out of all of them that hadn't improved under Passione's...new management.

It wasn't that Giorno was a bad boss, that was far from the truth. 

It was more about what Fugo had going on in his own mind. 

Under Giorno, he was still trying to find new ways to control his stand, Purple Haze, so he could be useful to them. This should have made Fugo happy and grateful to finally feel helpful instead of destructive.  
Instead, discovering more about his stand only made more afraid. It reminded him of the atrocities he had to commit when defeating Diavolo and other enemies to get himself to the top. 

It made him relive the times that his friends were injured or in trouble, and he couldn't help them at the time because he couldn't yet gain control of his stand.   
Even at night, he couldn't escape these thoughts of fear and regret.

He regretted not knowing enough about his stand in the past, he regretted not being able to help his friends when he needed it the most. 

When he closed his eyes to sleep, visions of violence would play before him. 

He would see his dearest friends, hurt and calling out for him, but he could never save them. 

Because of the reccuring nightmares, Fugo rarely got a good night's sleep. It made him sluggish and irritable during the day time, even when he didn't intend to be. 

Worst of all, Giorno was starting to take notice. 

While they were in a meeting, discussing their plans for the next year, Fugo had started to nod off.

Mista, who was sitting to his left, nudged Fugo harshly in the arm, causing the man to jump on impulse and shove him.

"Geez, Fugo. I was just checking if you were awake," Mista said defensively. 

"Checking? You elbowed me," Fugo sneered.

In the past, fights like these would occur for far too long, but Mista seemed to be more mature than Fugo now. Fugo found it unnerving how fast the other man had changed.

" You didn't have to push me, I just didn't mean to call that much attention to you," Mista explained. "You were falling asleep in the middle of our meeting. It's disrespectful," 

Fugo was silent for a bit, because he knew that Mista was right. His friend was trying to wake him up quickly so that Giorno and Polnareff wouldn't notice him sleeping on the job. He tried to help him avoid an embarrassing situation, but Fugo went and stepped right into it all by himself. 

He glanced over at Giorno, and saw that the blonde was looking right over at him, piercing into him with those chilling blue eyes.

He was too tired and embarrassed to argue more with Mista. 

"I apologize, Don Giovanna." Fugo said stiffly. He hung his head and avoided looking directly into Giorno's eyes. 

"Apology accepted, Fugo," Giorno replied. "But please, just call me Giorno,"

They continued the meeting despite Fugo's outburst. Fugo managed to stay awake for the full thing, but he couldn't keep his mind from wandering.

Why couldn't he stay awake?  
What were these nightmares supposed to mean?  
Why hadn't Giorno scolded him?

All of these questions circled in his mind on repeat, and before he knew it the meeting was over.   
He stood up to walk out of Giorno's office.

"Actually, Fugo, could you stay behind for a little bit?" Giorno asked.

Fugo froze and looked over at his boss. Over the years Giorno had grown into quite a handsome man, or at least Fugo thought so. He wore his golden hair down most of the time, and his tailored suits fit him well.

"Of course," Fugo answered.

He sat back down in his seat and watched as Mista walked out with Polnareff in his arms. 

The door of the office closed, and silence fell over the only two left in the large office. 

Fugo's eyes were glued to his own shoes. Was Giorno going to punish him? To scold him?   
The blonde was the first to break the silence. 

"Fugo, what's been going on with you lately?" he asked. 

Fugo lifted his eyes to gaze into those sapphire eyes that seemed to know all. 

He really wished he knew the answer to that question, he wished he could tell Giorno what was going on in his mind, but when he tried to his throat dried up.

He didn't want to burden the boss with his problems, he found it inappropriate, since Giorno already had so much else to worry about anyways.

Plus, everyone else seemed to be doing just fine, so why wouldn't he be fine as well? Maybe this was just all in his head.

Fugo finally found what he thought was the right answer.

"It's nothing really. I just haven't been getting much sleep," 

Giorno nodded like he understood the true meaning behind those words. 

"Is something bothering you?" Giorno continued.

Fugo shook his head. "I'm honestly fine," 

Giorno studied Fugo for a moment, as if he were trying to decipher the real answer just by looking at him. It made Fugo feel like the room had gotten a thousand times warmer.

"If you say so," he said finally. "Just remember, if you ever need anything, Mista and I are here for you. We're your friends, Fugo. I'm your friend," 

Fugo nodded humbly. "Thank you, Don Giovanna," 

And with that, Giorno dismissed Fugo from his office. Fugo stood up from the chair and walked towards the door.

"And Fugo," 

Giorno's voice chimed from behind him as he put his hand on the door handle. 

"Just call me Giorno," 

 

Seconds, minutes, hours passed by since their encounter in the office, and Fugo still thought about it fondly.

He guessed that he shouldn't be too surprised. He had known Giorno for years, the man had helped him learn more about his rather dangerous stand. 

Still, when he thought about how the man had addressed him so tenderly, with genuine concern, his face would get warm. 

Fugo had this warm feeling inside for Giorno for a very long time, but he had no idea how to confront it or what to do about it. 

So he would shove it some place dark, with the rest of his feelings until something brought it up again.   
The more he would push thoughts and feelings down, it seemed the more they impacted his dreams. Soon enough, it was Giorno's face that haunted him at night, screaming for help. 

He started to avoid Giorno like the plague. The only time he would come near him was when it was necessary. 

He didn't want to see Giorno's face in his sleep or when he was awake, so he consequently began to sleep less as well.

This didn't jive well with the fact that he still had a job to do. But, thanks to Mista, he was stuck reading letters and filing information for Giorno until he could get his shit together. 

He hasn't slept for two days, and the more he read, the more the words on the papers merged together.  
Fugo's eyes closed slowly, and he fell asleep at his desk, still upright.

 

It was black. As far as he could see, there was just black.

Suddenly, someone came into view, but he couldn't quite see who it was. He felt like he was straining to see the details on the person's face.

"Who's there?" he called out. 

He was answered by the sound of flesh sizzling.   
When his vision came back into focus, he saw that the person in front of him was Giorno, his face riddled with lesions and tears.

The virus of his Purple Haze was eating Giorno alive.  
Fugo screamed, but it was like nothing came out. He couldn't hear anything, he couldn't feel anything. He was just consumed by the look in Giorno's eyes as the virus continued to destroy his perfect face.

 

Fugo was awakened by his own screaming.   
He shot upright in his seat and looked around frantically. He was still at his desk in the office, and the room was dark. How long had he been out for?  
As he came to his senses, his heart rate started to slow down. It was just another nightmare.

However, he was about to realize he wasn't alone.

" Are you alright?" a familiar voice asked in the darkness.

Fugo had been so scared that he didn't even realize Giorno was sitting in one of the chairs near his desk.   
Fugo stared at him for a moment, biting back tears. How was he going to explain how he fell asleep on the job again? Furthermore, how was he ever going to explain why he had suddenly woken up screaming bloody murder?

It was all too much for him.  
All the feelings he had been bottling up coursed through him now right in that moment.  
The nightmares, the fear, the misery, the pang of warmth in his chest he carried for Giorno.

Tears started to rush down Fugo's face.

Giorno frowned and he walked over to the other man, cupping his face. 

Fugo instantly flinched away.

"Please, don't touch me. I'll explode if you touch me," his voice was strained.

Giorno just respected his wishes and kept his distance.

"Fugo, you need to tell me what's wrong. I'm really worried about you," Giorno spoke softly. "You've been falling asleep at random times and avoiding me. I need to know what's going on," 

Fugo just kept his head down, letting the tears fall freely. He knew Giorno was too smart to not notice what was happening with him. But how could he even begin to tell him when he didn't even know what was going on for himself?

Where would he start?

With the fear of sleeping? With the nightmares? With the persistent tugging at his heart every time he was near Giorno?

"I keep seeing your face in my dreams," Fugo finally began, after much contemplation.

This seemed to relax Giorno, so Fugo assumed it was safe to continue talking.

"I keep seeing you, Bruno, everyone else, calling for my help. And no matter how much you yell and scream, I can never save you from whatever is hurting you," he mumbled. 

Fugo looked up at Giorno. He was shaking by now, as if all of the emotions flowing through him was too much for his body to handle. 

"I don't want to lose you Giorno. You're so special to me, I don't know what I would do without you. I feel at my best when I'm with you" the words came out before Fugo could even realize what he was doing.

Something in Fugo's mind clicked and he realized what the warm fuzzy feeling meant, why he was actually so afraid of losing Giorno, even in his dreams.   
Fugo loved Giorno, he loved him since they defeated Diavolo. He didn't want to let him down.

Giorno cleared his throat to speak.

"I feel the same way about you. You aren't just an asset to me, you're one of the people I trust most Fugo," he said. "So why don't you trust me enough to tell me what's going on with you?" 

"I don't know how to tell you. I don't want to burden you with my problems," 

Giorno slowly reached out to take ahold of Fugo's hand, making sure it was okay to before he did.  
He rubbed his thumb against Fugo's knuckles. The action was so simple, but it made Fugo want to fall straight into Giorno's arms.

"Fugo," Giorno tsked. "I would never consider you a burden. I care about you," 

The blonde gently pulled Fugo up out of the chair and into a warm hug.

Fugo's body was frozen, he didn't know how to physically react to Giorno hugging him, but his mind was running a mile a minute.

Suddenly, he forgot why he was doing it all in the first place.

 The years of repressing his romantic feelings towards Giorno, and refusing to tell anyone about the nightmares he was having only caused him more pain.  
Giorno was here for him all along and he refused to see it.

Fugo slowly relaxed into the hug, his arms falling into place around Giorno.   
The two of them stood there in the darkness of the office, Giorno's hand rubbing soothing circles into the small of Fugo's back.

All the while, the words were forming on the tip of Fugo's tongue. Words lurking in the back of his mind every time he was around Giorno. 

' I love you '

' I love you! '

' I love you, Giorno! ' 

He could hear his heart thump loudly in his own ears. If he said those words now, there was a chance he could make his situation worse. But he didn't want to hide anything from Giorno anymore. 

He looked up at Giorno, and the other man gazed into his eyes tenderly. 

"I want you to be open with me. Promise me you'll tell me more about what's going on in your head," Giorno said.

Fugo simply nodded.  
 "I promise," 

Giorno smiled softly. He began to let go of Fugo, and Fugo panicked a bit. There was no way he would get another chance to say what he wanted to say. 

"I want to tell you something. I don't know how you're going to take it," Fugo said.

Giorno nodded.  
"What is it?" he asked.

Fugo nervously cleared his throat.  
"I love you," he spoke softly.

Silence fell between them, and Fugo immediately began to assume the worst. He started to ramble.

"I know you probably don't feel the same, but I really respect you and you're important to me and I've felt this way for so long I just wanted to tell you," he said.

Fugo clenched his fists and dug his fingernails into his palms. He felt stupid for assuming that someone as great Giorno would feel the same about him.

"I love you too, Fugo," Giorno said.

Fugo was legitimately shocked. He was waiting for the other shoe to fall, for Giorno to say something along the lines of loving him as a friend or something, but that moment never came.

"I thought you knew. We've spent so much time together, and yet you still insist on keeping things so formal I just thought you didn't feel that way about me," he continued. 

Fugo damn near laughed. He couldn't believe he made Giorno feel like he didn't like him like that.

"You're like the most important person in my life," Fugo said. 

He took Giorno's hand and squeezed it softly.   
Giorno squeezed back.

"And you are mine. And that's why, I want you to try and get some rest," he said.

Fugo opened his mouth to protest, but Giorno hushed him.

"I'll stay with you. If you have a nightmare, I'll be right here," he said.

Giorno lead Fugo over to the expensive couch in the office and sat Fugo down.

He let Fugo lean his head on his warm chest, and wrapped his arms around the thinner man.  
Fugo still felt jittery from the excitement of having his feelings requited, but in Giorno's arms he felt safe enough to close his eyes. 

For the first time in months, Fugo got a full night of rest.


End file.
